Invaded
A Spooky Microfiction
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. Now here Nicki was, trying to open said black door with a large keyhole, in sharp contrast to the rest of the white house. Harsh footsteps and loud clashes continued behind her, evidence that the robbers were still in the house.
When Nicki’s neighbors with government jobs asked her to water their plants while they were away, a broke Nicki accepted. She was fine with the rule since she figured they had important documents in there. It was weird that they hung the big key next to the door though.
But then people broke into the house and Nicki’s phone died before she could call for help. They didn’t know she was here, but it was only a matter of time, so Nicki needed to get to safety, to the one door that looked like it couldn’t be kicked dow-
In her panic, Nicki dropped the key. She flinched at the loud noise that echoed down the hall. The silence afterwards was deafening as she quickly picked up the key. Only to drop it again when the harsh footsteps came back, now louder.
Then Nicki saw the cabinet to her right and recalled it was mostly empty. Forgoing the door, Nicki rushed to the cabinet and got inside. She closed the cabinet doors just before the robbers came. Nicki heard the robbers stop in front of her and a second later, picked up the key. There was a click, then they turned the doorknob.
The robbers suddenly started screaming before they were cut off by a loud inhale. There was the sound of someone chewing and spitting before the door closed.
Despite herself, Nicki opened the cabinet door.
Blood and tattered clothes covered everything.
***
Judah LoVato's companion piece.
About the Creator
Rebecca Patton
Ever since discovering Roald Dahl, I wanted to be an author who would delight and move her readers through her stories. I also wrote my debut novel, "Of Demons and Deception" on Amazon.
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
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More stories from Rebecca Patton and writers in Horror and other communities.
The Voice That Waited
Seen (1) At the edge of a quiet town stood an abandoned radio station, forgotten by time and avoided by locals. The building had been shut down for over twenty years, yet people claimed that at exactly 2:17 a.m., a faint broadcast could still be heard on an old frequency. No music. No news. Just a voice. Daniel was a small content creator who specialized in audio storytelling. He didn’t believe in rumors, but he believed in stories. When he heard about the mysterious broadcast, he decided to investigate—not for views, but for curiosity. One cold night, Daniel entered the radio station with his recorder and headphones. Dust covered the equipment, and spider webs hung from the ceiling. Everything looked dead. Silent. At exactly 2:17 a.m., the old transmitter crackled. A voice broke through the static. “Hello… is anyone listening?” Daniel froze. The voice was calm but tired, like someone who had been waiting for a long time. “My name is Arthur,” the voice continued. “I used to work here. If you can hear me, please don’t turn this off.” Daniel whispered into his microphone, “I’m listening.” The voice seemed relieved. “For years, I spoke into this microphone, hoping someone would hear me. When the station shut down, everyone left. Everyone except me.” Daniel’s heart raced. “Are you… alive?” There was a pause. Then a soft laugh. “That depends on what you mean by alive,” Arthur said. “I passed away in this building many years ago. But my voice stayed. This place remembers me.” Arthur explained that he had been a late-night radio host, speaking to lonely people, travelers, and insomniacs. The night the station closed, he stayed behind to record one final message—something meaningful. But no one ever aired it. He died alone, with his words unheard. “So I kept talking,” Arthur said. “Night after night. Waiting for someone to listen.” Daniel felt a heavy silence fill the room. “What do you want from me?” Daniel asked. Arthur answered gently, “I don’t need fear. I don’t need fame. I just want my message to reach someone. Anyone.” Daniel nodded, even though Arthur couldn’t see him. “I’ll share your story.” For the first time, the static disappeared. Arthur’s voice became clear. “Tell them this,” he said. “You are not invisible. Someone, somewhere, needs your voice—even if you don’t know it yet.” The broadcast ended. The room fell silent. Daniel left the station before sunrise and spent the next day editing the audio. He uploaded the recording as a simple podcast episode titled *The Voice That Waited*. He didn’t add music. He didn’t add effects. Just the truth. Within days, thousands of messages poured in. People said the voice helped them through loneliness, grief, and dark nights. Some cried. Some found comfort. Some found hope. Daniel returned to the radio station one last time. At 2:17 a.m., there was no broadcast. The transmitter stayed silent. But Daniel smiled. Because he understood something important: Some voices don’t fade because they are loud. They survive because someone finally listens.
By Do bol ho jaaye 3 days ago in Horror
Comments (15)
😂 love that it got fed
I’m reading this because of Judah LoVato’s The Burglary. Love the cross pollination that happened here. Awesome job Rebecca, best of luck!
Very good read! It's been fun to see all the directions the opening sentence can take us- and this one inspired me to write another micro (but from the burglars perspective)
It was so intense. I could really feel her fear.
It is a very well written and valuable story with a good ending
That was great. Congrats on the TS.
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
A fine short horror "film" rolled over my eyes, thank you!!
Very nice bloody end
Nice bit of a horror story. Saved by the impending key drop! This was engaging and very well written. Congratulations, too, on Top Story achievement!
Awesome! I love twisty, turny stories!!
well written
Good scary twist.
That was such a close call. Thank god Nikki decided to go into the cabinet instead. Loved your story!
This should be expanded on.